


An Extension of Your Parents

by SandraSempra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Could Be Canon, Diagon Alley, Friendship, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts House Sorting Ceremony, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mystery, Next-Gen, Original Character(s), Potions, Slytherin, Slytherins Being Slytherins, prefect teddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraSempra/pseuds/SandraSempra
Summary: Kedrick is about to embark on his next chapter of his youth:  Going to Hogwarts.  He was often told he was a spitting image of his father with the stern and loving heart of his mother. Will he be able to follow in his parent’s footsteps?  Who are these parents of his?





	An Extension of Your Parents

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a OS comp for fun. Obviously, Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling, even the concept of the original character in this story. 
> 
> I know original characters are not often popular in our wonderful fandom, but his parents are known, and you discover who they are at the end of the tale. There is an easter egg hint from one of my past stories in here. Can you find it? I had considered continuing little Kedrick's journey in the future, but it's still up in the air. Most importantly, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!
> 
> A special thank you to JEPierre for the beta love!

 

The rain hammered heavily against the large window panes of the manor library, causing ripples of obscured images between water streams down the glass to the gardens outside.  Kedrick sat at the desk reading _Hogwarts, A History_ while holding a crinkled parchment in his hand.  Beside him, the fire was roaring under a large marble fireplace but the room felt cold, and he fought back the snarl of resentment as his eyes focused on a portrait of his parents.

“There you are. You ran off so fast after Driscoll stopped by with a certain letter bearing a _familiar_ seal,” his mother’s tone was as it always was: stern but not harsh, and holding little emotion as she emerged through the dark mahogany door. Kedrick tried to smile in response, gripping the letter in his hand all the tighter.  His mother’s owl, Driscoll, did in fact deliver him a letter; one that bore a wax seal his mother knew well.  Kedrick anticipated it would arrive any day, and when the fat, brown bird of prey finally showed up, he had to fight the tawny owl to release it.

“That bloody bird hates me, Mother,” he scoffed, pulling his eyes to the letter in his hand.  His mother smiled, drawing his gaze back to her as she walked over to him.

“Language, Kedrick. I did not raise you to speak crossly.”  Kedrick narrowed his eyes.  What she meant was she didn’t raise him to speak like his _father_ .  Not that he knew much in terms of his paternal superior, as his mother rarely spoke of him.  He had chose not to stick around after Kedrick was born, so Kedrick _didn’t bother_ pressing his mother with questions regarding him.

His piercing blue eyes met his mother’s dark ones, and her features softened in a way he had rarely seen in her expression.  Reaching for him, she pulled her eleven-year old son into her arms, squeezing albeit too tightly, causing Kedrick to wince.

“Mother!” he managed to say as he felt her let out a soft sigh, then vibrate with light laughter against him.  “I’m never going to make it to Hogwarts if you don’t. Let. _Go_.”

Reluctantly, she pulled back, biting the inside of her mouth as though she was already preparing herself to say goodbye.  Kedrick was drawn to the expression on her face: her nose crinkled to hold back the tears that threatened to burn her eyes, her lips pulled tightly in a thin line, and her brows arched back. She halted the subtle quiver of her chin, and he was mesmerized. His mother was the strongest woman he’d ever known, even now as she swallowed back whatever it was her heart was telling her, he found he had the utmost respect for all she has given and taught him.

“We will go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to gather your supplies,” she spoke in a dulcet tone that didn’t fit her demeanor, and Kedrick found himself frowning back at her.

“I don’t _have_ to go you know,” he said begrudgingly, eyes focused down in a glare as he scuffed his boot across the marble floor.  He wanted nothing more than to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but seeing his mother in this rare vulnerable state drew his thoughts to that of guilt for leaving her alone.  He always swore he would be there for his mother the way she was for him, unlike the man who left them _both_ alone all those years ago.  He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his father had, especially when it came to his mother.  They were a team, always had been, and the mere possibility he could send her back to the day she was abandoned those years ago, pulled at him.

Expectantly, his mother’s eyes swirled, and her face went completely unreadable.  She was good at that, hiding her emotions.  There were only a few moments where Kedrick could count where he knew exactly what his mother was thinking.  This was obviously _not_ one of those moments.  He had thought her disheartened at the idea of him going off to school and leaving her behind, but seeing her countenance now, he wasn’t too certain that was the case at all.

“Nonsense.  We’ll head out tomorrow afternoon,” she paused only briefly, folding her one arm across her chest as she brought the other to her lips in thought, “Your robes should be first, then your books I think.”

Kedrick rolled his eyes.  He wasn’t particularly fond of Diagon Alley or the amount of people who regularly occupied its streets.  He prefered his own company, and rarely ventured off the manor grounds; choosing instead to occupy his time fiddling with potions in the like.  

He was born a natural, he discovered, configuring ingredients and calculating measurements in terms of herbs and magical substances with complete accuracy. In a rare moment where his mother opened up about his father, she let it slip that he too excelled in potions, receiving an outstanding in his N.E.W.T. level course in school.  Kedrick held onto that tidbit of his father’s life, imagining what his skill level would be today had his father stuck around to teach him his ways and knowledge in the subject.  

It was a _foolish_ notion; a childish one. One that showed a weakness not worth exposing to others, so he often pushed it deep to the back of his mind.

His mother sighed impatiently, knocking Kedrick from his musings and bringing his attention back to her round features.  

“Of course, Mother,” he said matter of factly.  It was a response he knew she would want to hear, and she seemed to accept it.  Walking to the door, she turned to him again.

“Until tomorrow then?” She asked him with a tinge of something Kedrick couldn’t quite place.  He narrowed his eyes in thought, and nodded as she exited the library.  The sound of the rain filled his ears once more as he propped his head lazily against the palm of his hand, and continued his reading on the school he would come to call his second home for the next seven years; a small smile creeped over his lips.

x*X*x

The rain had stopped that following afternoon, but the clouds had painted a blanket of gray across the sky. He watched aimlessly as a few persistent rays of sun attempted to pierce through its thick masses.  Kedrick shrugged as they entered Diagon Alley, and somberly followed suit behind his mother, who was walking with a purpose towards _Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions._

“All these familiar faces!”  cried Madam Malkin upon Kedrick and his mother entering her quaint little shop.  It was already full of young witches and wizards, aiming to be fitted for their own journey to Hogwarts.  “He looks just like his father,” Madam Malkin continued in a beaming voice.  Kedrick scoffed as his mother sighed.

“I look _nothing_ like my father,” he countered, flexing his jaw and folding both hands across his chest.  He could feel the heat of his mother’s glare behind him, and he grudgingly relaxed his shoulders in an annoyed and defeated shrug.

“Sorry about that, Madam Malkin.  I’m not sure where Kedrick placed his manners today.”

Madam Malkin peered at him, her pudgy expression morphing to that of what Kedrick could only describe as pity.  Kedrick could feel his mouth curl into a silent snarl under her scrutiny, but he stepped up to be fitted, exasperatingly aware of the exchange between the old squat witch and his mother behind him, as he glared at their reflections in the mirror through hooded eyes.

He felt vulnerable standing there with his arms out to his sides as the measuring tape magically worked itself about him.  Madam Malkin had called over to him occasionally to remind him of his posture, prompting him to keep his back straight and his chin up.  Kedrick scoffed more than once, awkwardly towering over the other two boys who stood getting their own measurements.  

Kedrick was tall and lithe, with dark brown hair and eyes so blue they could pierce even the hardest of gazes.  He understood why Madam Malkin claimed he looked like his father, but didn’t want to admit it to himself.  It was why he avoided peering at his reflection as he stood there impatiently, and was relieved when the old shopkeeper called him over to wrap up his purchase.

His mother had left to gather his books in _Flourish and Blotts_ , and had requested he meet her there once he was finished with his measurements.  Kedrick, however, had other plans and used this opportunity to flee to one of the only places in Diagon Alley he felt comfortable in.  He heeded to the _Apothecary_ , striding swiftly and dodging between the busy families in cloaks and hands full of school supplies.   _Bob and weave_ he told himself as he made his way to the familiar shop.  He paused briefly, peering inside _Flourish and Blotts_ as he passed before tugging his collar to further hide his face in his coat and continued to his destination.

The chiming of the bell above the door lingered over the humming sounds of private conversations with patrons he cared little to acknowledge, and he’d grown accustomed to the foul smells that lingered in the stagnant air of the _Apothecary_.  

“Ah, Kedrick my boy!” said a dry, scratchy voice to his side.  

Kedrick turned to see Old Asaph, the shopkeeper, and responded with a genuine smile, walking to the counter in a casual stride.

“Mr. Asaph. Got in anything new?” Kedrick’s eyes were wide and hopeful as the old man gave a grin.

“Your passion for potions challenges my own, I dare say,” he said with a heaving laugh.  “You’re in luck.  I got some skullcap roots in shipment just last evening.” The old wizard quirked a brow as he studied Kedrick’s stern expression, his brain visibly working through an endless list of potion possibilities.  “You’re already thinking of new concoctions for the roots?  I can see it all over your face, boy,” Asaph laughed, and Kedrick smirked a grin not dissimilar from another boy he once knew.  

“I’ll take a bundle of roots, sir.  I’d love to stay and hear your advice on how to incorporate them, but I better get going before-”

“ _Kedrick_!”

The sudden volume from his mother’s voice brought the whole shop to its knees, quickly hushing all conversations, and bringing everyone’s attention to her.   _And him._  Asaph gave a comforting grin to the angry witch in his doorframe, and handed the roots to Kedrick, never once breaking eye contact with her.  His mother’s eyes flashed with irritation as her son sombered over to her.

“I had to make a pitstop. I-”

“A pitstop would have been on the way.  You walked right _passed_ Flourish and Blotts.”  Kedrick lowered his head.  When his mother got like this, there was no arguing with her.  She was downright scary.  Her demeanor was nothing short of frightening: chin raised, hands on her hips, and a look that could cower even the bravest of wizards.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” was all Kedrick could muster under her powerful scrutiny.  

At his words, the witch loosened her shoulders and dropped her hands to her sides.  Her expression quickly softened as she shrugged.  He could tell there was something weighing on her mind, something that wasn’t entirely his disregarding her orders to meet her elsewhere.  Eyebrows raised, he longed for the knowledge of legilimency so he could better understand his mother’s change in behavior, but even then he knew she would be challenging to read. _To understand._

“It’s alright,” she sighed. “I know how much you enjoy coming here.  At least it's someplace where you can converse with actual people,” she gestured him to the door, turning to Asaph.  “Thank you, Asaph.  I apologize for the outburst.”

The old man leaned against the counter and folded his arms loosely over his chest.  “Not a problem at all.  I know how _you_ feel about coming here.”

Kedrick peered over his shoulder as Asaph spoke, witnessing his mother frown, her features dropping.  But like clockwork, her expression turned to that of no expression at all, and if he had blinked, he would have missed it altogether.  She nodded as she exited the shop behind her son..

“Don’t you want to get your _own_ wand, Kedrick?”  he heard his mother ask his back.  Turning, Kedrick’s eyes flashed with excitement and anticipation.

“Do you really have to ask? I’m tired of borrowing yours for potion incantations,” he said with a stern face.  

His mother quirked a brow and couldn’t suppress a smirk.  “ _Borrow_ , he says.” Her laughter a refreshing change from her former demeanor.  

He returned her chortles, and grabbed her hand, tugging her towards _Ollivander’s_ anxiously.  The weight of her lightened as she followed his steps to the door.  He paused in its frame, taking a deep breath before opening the door to the narrow and cluttered shop.

The aroma of dust tickled his nose as he observed the shelves stacked with tiny boxes to the ceiling.  He swiveled on his heels, hugging his mother around the waist.  Surprised at the sudden contact, she made a sound not dissimilar to an _oh!_ and wrapped her arms around him in response.  The utterance of a throat clearing sounded behind him as Kedrick pulled from his mother, and peered up at an elderly man with thick, graying hair.

“I’ve been expecting you, Kedrick.  Your mother, here, has stopped by a few times this week already,” the older wizard said, touching his index finger to his nose.  

Blushing, Kedrick’s mother gave a sincere smile, her lips curling into a tight curved line.  She nudged her head at Kedrick, encouraging him to step forward.  He did as she bade, his palms sweaty from the anticipation of finally owning a wand of his very own.

The man, known to all by Garrick Ollivander, turned from his merchants to study the shelves.  Silently, with an occasional _“ahh”_ from his lips, he pulled and tugged various wands from their places, leaving a hole in the stack, and placed them on the desk between him and Kedrick.  The boy eyed them anxiously, licking his lips over his options.

“Alright, Kedrick, give one a whirl.” Ollivander’s emphasis on his syllables made Kedrick chortle to himself as he picked up the first wand.  A faint hum stung at his hand, and he flicked the wand to the right.  The shelves shook vigorously, but nothing happened.  Kedrick frowned.

“Not the core but the wood,” he says shaking his finger pointedly in the air, “The unicorn hair works very well indeed, young Kedrick, but the hawthorn is not right.”  He pressed his palms against a ladder, leaning his body forward with squinted eyes.  “Yes, cedar I think would do swimmingly,” he scooped the box from the shelf, sliding the other wands out of the way with his arm as he places the long narrow box on the table before Kedrick.  “Well, _go on_.”

Kedrick wrapped his fingers around the smooth handle of the cedar wand, and instantly feels his hand magnetically thrum against it.  Eyes wide, he flicked his wrist, sending the dismissed wands back to their wonted places on the shelves.  Kedrick felt his lips pull into a large and satisfied grin.

x*X*x

The remaining days were spent preparing Kedrick for his journey to Hogwarts.  He had read _Hogwarts, A History_ many times over, learning about the different houses and the layouts of the castle.  He was intrigued to see it all in person, and the guilt of leaving his mother behind diminished with each passing hour.

In addition to the experience of furthering his magical education, he found his thoughts lingering to that of his parents’ youth.  They had met in the halls of Hogwarts, and were happy in their innocence before a war that allegedly brought them together.  What he couldn’t figure out was why it broke them apart again.  Countless possibilities ran through his mind, questioning why his father would leave his mother after all they had supposedly been through, but the results ended the same: with disdain and negative feelings towards the man known as his father.  No thought, be it simple or complex, could excuse the fact he unambiguously chose _not_ to stay with the woman he _claimed_ to love, or the son he helped bring into this world.  Kedrick’s face scrunched in disgust.  

Struggling to fall asleep, Kedrick pulled back the covers of his black wrought iron bed, and flattened his feet sternly on the floor in exasperation.  His eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, and he scanned its length in full, taking in the final night in this space for months before he would return for winter holiday.

Muffled cries could be heard from the opposite end of Kedrick’s door, and his eyes shifted to the stream of light flickering outside the frame.  He sighed, shoving his weight onto his feet and sombered to the door, turning the brass handle slowly.  The stifles seized as he emerged, finding his mother standing in the dark of the hall with a _lumos_ on her wand.  Her eyes glistened, reflecting off the white light at the wand’s tip, and she straightened her shoulders.

“Kedrick.  You should be sleeping.  You have a big day tomorrow,” her voice wavered, and Kedrick once again witnessed a look in his mother that was unfamiliar to him before his letter arrived.  He narrowed his eyes in contemplation.  It was as though the letter itself restored memories his mother had soon better forgotten.

“It’s hard to sleep with you crying outside my door, mother,” his tone was slightly colder than intended.  His mother responded as he thought she would:  face turning to stone and her posture prestine.

“Fair enough, son. Come. Let’s you to bed,” she stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder to swivel him around and back towards his bedroom.  Kedrick settled himself onto the plush mattress, his mother helping him with his covers as she leans forward, placing a peck on his forehead.  “Good night, Kedrick.”

x*X*x

The house elves were bustling before the morning light, preparing a breakfast feast for their young master’s big day.  Kedrick woke with a start, throwing on his slacks and white oxford shirt in a rush as he darted down the stairs.  He was near the bottom when he finally secured the last button on his shirt.

He rushed through the dining hall where his mother was sipping her morning tea.  The aroma of gravy and eggs invaded his nose and he licked his lips as he plopped heavily down at the table.  Across the surface, cluttered with platters and bowls alike, his mother raised a brow before continuing her sip, then placed her porcelain cup neatly in front of her.

“Best hurry, Kedrick,   _You_ overslept.  Eat up so we can be on our way.”

Kedrick, who had already started grabbing at the sausages, acknowledged her with a nod.  He was halfway through this meal before looking up at her again.  Aside from the occasional sound of a fork sliding across the plate, breakfast was expectantly quiet.  The routine, with the exception of the heighten of his nerves, was the same, and he welcomed the familiarity of it all, knowing in his mind he would come to miss these moments with his mother.

His plate was removed by his house elf the instant his final bite was finished, and the morning’s focus turned to prepare the floo.  His mother was waiting for him in the den, pointing and rechecking in her head to confirm they had all he needed as he approached, wand in hand.

“Be sure to keep that close to you, Kedrick.  The wand is an extension of you now, and you need to be responsible.”  Kedrick knew his mother was keeping her mind at ease with simple advice to avoid the idea of him leaving her for months, and he found himself conflicted in his own head: his excitement battled the guilt of it all.

“Kedrick you mustn’t look so glum. I had prepared for this day for years.” He met his mother’s dark round eyes, taken back by her comment.  It was as if she could read his mind.  She gestured to him, taking his hand and sitting on a green velvet settee positioned across the fireplace.  

She plucked a small phial from the stand and it hung from her hand on a chain.  Kedrick eyed it suspiciously as she placed the phial in his palm.

"It’s a love potion," his mother said albeit too cooly.  Kedrick winced and threw the phial down on the cushion as if the contents burned his skin.  
  
The elder witch breathed a laugh, tugging her mouth into a smirk as she picked up the glass container.  "The effects have long since expired, Kedrick."    
  
Her features dropped as she studied the phial in her hand.  "You said you wanted to know more about your father, yes?"

Kedrick’s eyes went wide.  The image of his mother giving his father a love potion made sense.  It would explain why he would leave her in the end at least.

“You you poisoned father with a love potion?”  Kedrick’s tone grew dark and held a tinge of anger.  His mother however, always the cunning, smiled at him again.

“No my dear boy.  I did _not_ give your father a love potion.  You will note the seal is untouched.” She gestured with her hand and Kedrick relaxed.  “It was rumored I did, however.”  She paused, her eyes trailing to the opposing wall of the den as her memories took her back to her youth. “There was a dance you see, and your father wasn’t particularly pleased to have me as his date.  A schoolmate of ours _thought_ she was being “helpful” by offering this to me, but I never used it.”

Kedrick scrunched his face, unsure of why his mother chose to tell him _this_ particular story, especially when there were so many others she could have chosen to say.  He eyed her through squinted lids, and took the phial from her hands.  His mother let out a laugh at her son’s silence.

“The point of this, Kedrick, is to never under or overestimate someone.  You may never truly know their true intentions unless you take note of the smaller details.”  She wrapped an arm around him.  “I know you prefer your own company, but don’t dismiss the important opportunity of another’s amity.”

Kedrick contemplated her words as she pulled them both to stand.  He followed her to the fireplace, grabbing hold of his luggage and entwined his fingers to hers.  Looking up, they shared a smile as the green flames engulfed them.

x*X*x

The platform was abuzz:  students of all ages beamed as they said goodbye to their parents and younger siblings, luggage of all sizes stacked at their sides.  Owls occupied the space above their heads, and Kedrick almost regretted not getting one of his own.  He peered ahead at the large red engine, steaming and humming, as it prepared to embark them on their journey.

Behind him, he felt his mother’s arm on his shoulder, guiding him along towards the train; her grip tightening with each step closer to their inescapable farewell.  He glanced back at her and with the calm expression upon her face, he assumed she hid her mien to shade any weakness; it was just their way, and he unknowingly did the same.

A flash of red shot by his peripheral, and his gaze followed the bouncy curls with his eyes.  The girl stopped abruptly, embracing what he could only assume to be her family, as they shared the likeness in features:  fiery red hair and freckles.  They appeared simple, but he found himself snarling silently at the tug of envy from seeing the large family together.

He turned fully to his mother then, dropping his luggage and wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his head into her bosom. Shocked, the older witch stiffened momentarily with her arms wide, before returning the gesture completely.

“Kedrick?” he heard his mother say calmly.  “Come now, love.”  She shifted, pulling his chin with her hand gently to guide his face to look up at her.

“Will you be alright?” he asked without a thought.  “On your own?”

He felt her laugh against him as she smirked.  “Kedrick, I assure you.  I will be fine.  Now, mind your manners whilst on the train and in school.  I anticipate to know your house!”

Kedrick blinked, excited to know he could potentially continue both of his parents’ legacy by following along in their great house.  Flashing a smile familiar to her memories, Kedrick picked up his luggage and confidently strided towards the train.  He peered back one last time to see his mother smiling, standing alone as she watched his back.  She gave a wave as he turned and boarded the train.

He had been dreading this moment for weeks, worrying himself on how his mother would react to him leaving, and was relieved to see she appeared to be alright.   _Appeared_.  He tried not to mull over how she may have truly felt, choosing to hide behind her perfectly positioned mask she came to wear so well long before his eleven years came into existence.  

The train’s compartments were already filling up with students of all ages, and he found himself swallowing back the anxiousness as he slid open another door.  Five sets of eyes narrowly glared at him, and he shrugged, tugging the door closed to another filled compartment.  Sighing, he tried his luck one last time, in a cabin to the far back of the train, and was relieved to see it unclaimed.  He stumbled in, tripping over his luggage as he struggled to set it above the seat.

Sitting down, he gazed aimlessly out the window, the edge of the platform visible from his view.  His mother, he noticed, was not in his range of sight, and he shrugged.  His mind battled three emotions at once - guilt, anticipation, and anxiety - as he slouched in his seat.  He wallowed in the isolation for a moment, shrugging off as much as his mind would allow when he felt the jolt of the engine in play.  The whistle blew, and though it was a fair distance from his cabin, it loudly echoed off the walls of the platform; steam danced past his window, fogging his view as it slowly moved along its concrete length.  As the last car gained speed and approached the edge of the opposing side of the station, he caught a glimpse of his mother, standing towards the back with a handkerchief in her hand.  She was gone a moment later, replaced with receding traces of London, and closing a chapter of his life behind.

The door to his cabin slid loudly to the side, jouncing Kedrick from his musings.  His eyes shifted narrowly to the open compartment door, and a pair of soft brown eyes peered back at him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” the brown-eyed girl asked, flipping her bouncy red curls from her face. “It was pretty crowded in my last cabin.”

Kedrick recognized her from the station.  She was the same girl that caught his eye has she ran past him to say her farewells to her family.  He blinked in contemplation, and shrugged in response.

“Thanks!” she called, pulling her rather large luggage bag behind her.  She leaned over her case and slid the door closed again before turning, eying the baggage storage shelf with a bit lip.  Kedrick sighed, standing up in silence as he tugged her bag and hoisted it overhead, securing it in place.

He could feel the girl’s eyes on his back, and he became uneasy, turning to face her as he made his best attempt to measure up under her scrutiny.  She smiled then, stretching her arm straight, holding out her hand.

“I’m Molly.  Molly Weasley.”

“Kedrick,” he replied simply, ignoring her hand and taking back his seat.  He tugged a small, pouch-sized book from his shirt pocket and his wand, crinkling his brow in concentration as he cleared his throat.  “ _Engorgio,”_ he said waving his cedar wand nervously in a circular motion.  The book, much to his relief, swelled to its normal size and he placed his wand back in its holder.

Molly’s eyes grew wide.  “That’s a second year spell, that is!”  She rushed to his side and sat down, leaning forward and examining the book in his hand as if waiting for his spell to backfire.  “You must be pretty good with a wand!”

Kedrick rolled his eyes, unamused at the girl’s enthusiasm, and scooted closer to the window.

“To be honest, I got lucky.  I’ve been practicing since I obtained my wand two weeks ago,” he said in a bored tone, flipping the pages open to his bookmark.  He slouched in his seat again, pulling the book closer to his chest as he began to read.  Molly sat, eyes locked on his person for a time, before she reached forward, pushing the cover into Kedrick to get a clearer view of the text.  

“ _Magical Drafts and Potions_ ?” she shouted, brows raised.  “You’re reading your textbooks _before_ you have to?”

For the second time, Kedrick found his eyes rolling on their own accord.  He was beginning to regret letting this witch into his compartment.  With a shrug, he lowered his book and glowered at her in exasperation.

“I don’t see why this is so off putting for you,” he paused, looking her up and down, “Weasley, was it?”

Molly relaxed her back against the cushion of the seat and smiled.  “Yes!  Molly Weasley.  After my grandmother!”

A wave of silence washed over the cabin, and Kedrick was glad to hear a knock on the door to slice through the awkwardness between them.  An elderly woman appeared after gently sliding the door to the side.  She was a short witch, only inches taller than Kedrick, and had graying hair peppered with remnants of her younger days.  Her smile was genuine and wide, and she cocked her head to the side patiently.

“Something from the trolley young dears?”

“Oh!”  Molly cried excitedly, jumping from her seat and pushing herself forward using Kedrick’s shoulder as a prop.  He grunted at the impact, and glared after her. “My uncle collects chocolate frogs!  Can I get two of those?”  The elder witch beamed behind the trolley, and made the exchange with Molly.  Her eyes pulled to Kedrick next expectantly.

“No, thank you ma’am.” He resettled in his seat and began reading again.  He heard Molly say goodbye to the elderly woman, then the sound of the door sliding closed once more.  The cushion shifted when she sat down, a chocolate frog appeared in front of his pages.

“I can’t eat both of these.  My father says too many sweets can be damaging.”  Kedrick peered up at her in puzzlement.  Molly was sitting, legs crossed in front of her with her hand outstretched to him, her other holding a chocolate frog against her chest.  She was smiling widely, and Kedrick found it to be infectious.  Slowly, he accepted the candy and opened the box.

“Oh!  I got Aunt Hermione again!” Molly raised the card to him proudly. Kedrick was never one for sweets, but eyed the chocolate card in front of him and Molly snatches it quickly from his grasp. “Hesper Starkey! Ha, funny you should get someone associated with potions, seeing how you enjoy reading about them before class.”  Her tone was playful, but Kedrick scoffed, quickly disregarding the witch and her joyous banter and turned to gaze out the window onto the countryside.  Much to his relief, the remaining train ride was uneventful as Molly eventually fell asleep beside him with her head on his shoulder.

As the scenery evolved to a less open countryside, Kedrick shifted to stand, careful not to wake the sleeping ginger girl.  While on his feet, he pulled his robes on and tugged his wand into the long slender pocket, smoothing any folds on the fabric away with his hands.  Abruptly, the cabin door swung open, jolting Molly from her sleep.  A squeal escaped her lips as she rolled off onto the floor.

“Molly!”  Said the intruder, picking her up off the floor.  He was already displaying his robes:  lined in yellow with a pin on his chest displaying the letter “P”.  “I didn’t mean to startle you!  Don’t tell Victoire.  She’ll have my hide,” he breathed a laugh when the young witch beamed up at him.

“Thanks, Teddy!  And don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me!”  She gave him a wink.

The prefect, now known to Kedrick as Teddy, rubbed the top of the girl’s hair, mucking up her already wild curls from sleeping.  His eyes trailed to Kedrick.

“Who’s your friend, Molly?” he almost growled beneath his smile, and Kedrick backed up slightly against the window.

“Oh that’s just Kedrick.  He likes potions.  Are we close to Hogwarts?”  Molly’s eyes were wide, her happiness swimming evidently in their depths.

“Yes little bird, that’s why I’m here; making sure all you firsties are robed and ready for the boats!”  His eyes scanned Kedrick again.  “I see you’re already prepared!  Molly, you best change as well.”

And with that, he was on to the next cabin.  Molly scurried to get her robe on, her hair still astray, and fastened her robes.  They were a bit rumpled from being crammed into her luggage, but the glow about her countenance made it clear she was uncaring of such formalities.  

The train came to a stop, and the students began filing out of their compartments and into lines on the platform of Hogsmeade Station.  A rather large man stood, shifting almost uncomfortably, for the remaining first year students to follow him to where small boats were waiting to be boarded.  Kedrick stood awestruck at the sight of the castle in the distance, and clambered into a nearby boat.  To his surprised relief, Molly scooted next to him, and he smirked at the familiar face.

The ride to the castle was rocky, the boat creaked and rocked at every passing wave, and Molly gripped her hand into his when something shifted ripples across the water’s surface.  He met her eyes; they were swirling with excitement and fear, and he gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

x*X*x

Kedrick, along with the rest of the first year students, were led into the Great Hall of the school.  Wide-eyed, he admired the intricate ceiling: painted with twinkling stars and faded clouds glided lazily across the top of the room. Floating candles flickered overhead as his focus shifted to the front of the room.  Ignoring the lingering eyes from the older students, they came to a halt short of a podium lined in the back with a long table holding what Kedrick assumed were the professors of the school.  A woman in a green velvet robe stood in front of them, her face stern and in control. Beside her, a stool and a crinkled old hat sat on display.  Kedrick’s mother had told him about the sorting hat ceremony, and he was glad his imagination didn’t disappoint him.

“Evening students,” the elder witch began.  There was a twinkle in her eye as she went over the events that were unfolding, explaining she would be calling each of them in front of her alphabetically to be sorted.  Kedrick gulped, worried he would be given a house unfamiliar to his parents’ own, and shifted uncomfortably for his turn to be called.

“Anders, Torrance.” The old woman, who he came to know as Headmistress McGonagall, announced.  The boy strided up to the stool and sat down. The hall fell silent as everyone anticipated which house would be called.

“Gryffindor!” The hat bellowed out, and the table holding red and gold trimmed robes cheered loudly, clapping as the boy jumped down to join his new house.  Kedrick’s hands grew clammy, and he eyed the Headmistress eagerly, knowing his name would be called shortly after.  The headmistress continued to call through names until finally...

“Bulstrode-Nott, Kedrick.”

Kedrick swallowed hard as he stepped towards to podium.  Molly gave him a wink as he passed, and he grew uncomfortable under everyone’s attention.  There were whispers among the crowd as he sat slowly on the stool, but a hush came over the hall as the hat was placed on his head.  Kedrick could feel the picking and tickling at his thoughts as the sorting hat rummaged through his mind.

“Ahh you have a cunning mind young Kedrick. And your cautious intellect is extraordinary indeed! Yes, yes.  It's very clear to me where to put you.  You will thrive under the house of..”

The hat wailed, echoing off the walls as Kedrick’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Slytherin!”


End file.
